


I See Family

by MemoryPalaceofWillGraham (JaxCat)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Murder Family, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaxCat/pseuds/MemoryPalaceofWillGraham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will was surprised but happy to see Abigail and glad to spend the evening with her and Hannibal. Why then was he so on edge? Not all is as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See Family

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the the Murder Husband Network on tumblr, for the weekly prompt of "family." I had both angsty and fluffy ideas for this prompt, and so I wrote both.

When the front door opened Will found himself frozen on Hannibal’s doorstep. The sound of rain drummed in his ears. Abigail smiled up at him, her hair loosely bound to one side, covering the side of her head. When Will didn’t move, her smile faded and she reached one hand out. “Will?”

“A-Abigail? You’re here? How…” Will found himself stuttering. He pulled his glasses off. Abigail had touched his shoulder and her hand was warm. _Alive._

She pushed him slightly, her smile reappearing. “Wake up, Will. I haven’t been gone that long. Didn’t Hannibal remind you I was returning from my trip today?”

Will shook his head, one hand running through his hair as he attempted to clear his mind. Of course. She was only away for a few weeks. Hannibal thought it would be good for her to travel before starting classes. _How could I have forgotten?_

“I missed you,” he said honestly.

“And I missed you both also. Seriously though,” she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly at him, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Get in here. Hannibal’s going to teach us how to make fresh pasta and I swear if he rearranges his ingredients one more time I’m going to snap. He seems hellbent on teaching me how to cook everything he knows before I leave. I think he is afraid I’m going to starve once I go to college.”

Will laughed, setting his glasses back onto his nose, and followed Abigail inside.

~~~

Usually when Will came for dinner, Hannibal’s house was already redolent with the smells of whatever feast he was preparing by the time he arrived. Today though, instead of being halfway through cooking, Hannibal waited in the kitchen, the island and counters neatly filled with ingredients and tools.

Abigail left his side to start cracking some eggs as Hannibal approached. He held out a filled wine glass, which Will took gratefully. He still felt on edge and the brush of Hannibal’s lips against his cheek made him startle. Hannibal frowned slightly. “Will? Is something wrong?”

 _Nothing’s wrong. Except for the fact that you’ve never kissed me._ Will met Hannibal’s eyes and the picture in his mind shifted. Why had he been so worked up? _What am I talking about? Of course he has. I’m just not used to him showing such open affection in front of Abigail_. Out loud, he reassured Hannibal it had been a long day and thanked him for the wine. He took a sip, and felt his shoulders relax.

Soon, Will found himself falling into a rhythm with Abigail as Hannibal instructed them in the art of fresh pasta making. It went remarkably well, with Abigail only throwing flour at the two men once. When Will had finally controlled his laughter, he thumbed a bit of flour off Hannibal’s cheek, and stole his own kiss. At that, Hannibal smiled warmly down at him. A sharp pain lanced through Will’s belly.

He took a startled intake of breath, but Hannibal was already moving back to Abigail’s side, helping her roll out another sheet of dough to the proper thickness to fit into the pasta machine. Will reached shaking fingers for his wine glass, letting the alcohol once again soothe him.

_Hunger pains, that’s all._

~~~

The pasta had finally been made to Hannibal’s satisfaction and hung in dangling loops on a holder on Hannibal’s counter. Will shook his head. He knew he had worked too much over the past week, burying himself in cases. The loops of pasta reminded him uncomfortably of spilling intestines, but he knew it was only a consequence of the crime scenes he had studied, spilling out of his mind. He pushed the image away firmly.

_It’s just pasta._

The fresh pasta only had to cooked at the last minute and Hannibal had turned their attention to the sauce they were preparing. They were making a spicy puttanesca sauce and Will found himself grateful it was vegetarian. Although he had partaken of human flesh of his own free will, he was still coming to terms with the usual meat found on Hannibal’s table. Will busied himself with crushing garlic, chopping capers, and slicing olives. Hannibal and Abigail had peeled some tomatoes and were now working on cutting them up. It was taking longer than expected as Abigail kept pausing to tell them stories about her vacation. Hannibal left her to take care of the rest of the tomatoes as he hunted down his olive oil and brought another bottle from the wine cellar.

The wine buzzed through Will’s veins. He was happy. The aching had returned to his stomach, but he knew they would eat shortly. He smiled at Abigail, who had stopped scooping the tomatoes into a pan and was gazing over Will’s shoulder, her face blank. Will took a quick glance himself, seeing nothing but the waiting pasta. “What’s wrong, Abigail? What do you see?”

Abigail’s eyes refocused and she smiled beatifically at Will. “I see family.” Will felt his chest grow warm and his arms ached to sweep Abigail into a hug. Instead, his eye was caught by a smudge of tomato that lingered on her neck. It must have splashed as she chopped. “Hey, kiddo, you have something there.” Will walked around the island and gently wiped at her neck with his fingers.

Her skin was cold.

The tiny spot of tomato grew and warmth gushed over Will’s hand. The smell of iron flooded the room, pushing back the good smells of garlic and wine. Will grabbed Abigail as she fell, her smile mirrored by the yawning gash on her neck. Blood pumped through his fingers as he struggled to hold the wound closed. The slight ache in his middle became a screaming roar of pain, ripping at his insides. He felt himself falling, felt _himself_ fall out of his body, as he struggled on the now slippery floor, trying to stop the waves of life rolling out of Abigail beside him. Will curled himself around the girl, his fingers slipping and his vision blurring as he saw Abigail’s eyes glaze over.

Will felt himself grow cold and colors faded. All he was was the red, red blood and then the white of Hannibal’s shirt from where he stood above them. The knife gripped in his hand shone sharply. Will could barely force the words out, his head swimming as he felt his fingers lose the last of their grip.

“Why?” Will slurred out.

Hannibal studied them. Quietly, he stated, “I saw family.”

Darkness rolled off Hannibal and rolled into the room and Will saw him leave, pacing down a tunnel. Blackness, deep and freezing, rolled over Will. He saw the blood had stopped pumping from Abigail’s neck.

~~~

“Mr. Graham?”

Will forced his eyes open. A nurse stood above him, forehead creased in worry. “Are you okay? Do you remember where you are? You were crying out.”

Will’s eyes traveled down his body, to where he had kicked the thin blanket off, revealing the bandages and pumps and colostomy bag the covered his stomach. He shook his head. “I’m fine. Just a dream.”

The nurse pulled the blanket back, nodding. “That is common, after the general anesthesia wears off, to have some vivid dreams.” She checked his monitors and pain pump then hesitated. She bit her lip before asking, “We didn’t see anyone listed as an emergency contact that was...available. Now that you are awake...is there any family we can call?”

Will closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness back.

“No family.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I made myself sad while writing this. I'm not sure I will ever get over Mizumono.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at memorypalaceofwillgraham.tumblr.com


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